Kings of Swing

Off stage screen, the three kings are on the green and their game.

BY GREGORY DL MORRIS

Kings of SwingCigars were fired up before the first tee at Moorpark Country Club outside Los Angeles and trouble started on the second. It was a windy day, and the ball was getting held up like a liquor store. Steve Harvey teed it high and let it fly on the 382-yard par-4. On hand were Harvey’s fellow Kings of Comedy from the Crown Royal-sponsored tour: Cedric the Entertainer, D.L. Hughley, who was playing host at his home course, and The Green publisher Rafael Martinez. Bernie Mac, the fourth King, was unwell. As Harvey’s tee shot went astray, all present were quick to offer support.

“No, no, you’re alright.”
“You’re good. I gotcha, I gotcha.”
“That’s playable.”

Harvey was having none of it. “These people will just lie to a brother all the way down. You’re saying the ball is holding on while the thing is rolling down the hill into the ravine. That’s not holding on, that’s gone. Now you can hold on while I tee up again.”

D.L. HUGHLEY

On a certain Monday in mid-January D.L. Hughley walked into a private golf club in the lush rolling hills northwest of Los Angeles. He had a tee time, but was told there were no carts available because it was a holiday. “Can’t a brother get a golf cart on Martin Luther King Day?” Hughley asked incredulously. You ain’t got a few set aside? I have a dream too, and it’s not walking this course.” His dream was eventually realized, but not before a small epiphany characteristic of the blend that is Hughley the man, the comedian, and the golfer. Beyond his shock over being denied a cart, he sensed good material in the making. His general take on comedy was a perfect fit for the occasion: “You can be angry, but you can’t be bitter.”
Golf suits D.L. Hughley because it is a relaxed game of intensity that rewards risk-takers and punishes fools. Skills prevail in the long run, but at any given moment luck can be the biggest factor. And golf is a lot of fun.

For only having played the game about two years, Hughley claims a handicap of 17 or 18, the lowest of the Kings of Swing, and he is clearly the most serious player among the group of friends. Hughley has a bit of a reputation as standoffish, but he is actually quite gregarious—it’s crowds he doesn’t like, not people.

“You meet the best people on the golf course. I like to go out single and hook up with another twosome or threesome. That is why I like public courses better than private country clubs. On the munis you run into the cats that just love the game. You know, the guys who come out to play twilight golf for $6 around. Guys who will give you their beer. The only problem with that is that once you’re all friends and everything, people try to give you tips, so you try stuff and it messes up your game.”Hughley’s game is built around Callaway Hawkeye VFT woods, Taylor Made irons, and a Voodoo putter. He hits Pro- V1 balls and likes Nike Blacks. He keeps a bag at his club and has a second travel bag that goes with him everywhere. In short, he is a believer with a burden to convert. “I told my crew that if they did not play golf, I would fire them.” He pauses for effect, then breaks into a devilish grin. “And then I bought them all clubs

In some ways, golf is a reward for making it, and Hughley wants to spread the love. “I grew up at 135th and Avalon,” he says. “I am not going to glorify the street, and I am not going to vilify the street. There were cats there who you loved and who you knew loved you. I knew they would kill or die for me. A few of them are still around. But at one point I decided that there had to be something different. I knew cats with more talent than MJ, cats that were funnier than Richard Pryor. But they never wanted anything different. As much as the ‘hood gives you, it takes away more.”
He got national attention by appearing on HBO, and went on to be host of the program “Comic View.” In 1998 he got his own TV show, “The Hughleys,” for which he did much of the writing. That led to the Kings of Comedy tour, and he continues to tour both comedy clubs and larger venues. Most recently, his one-man show, “Shocked and Appalled,” was a big ratings winner for Comedy Central on May 15. His new album, Notes from the GED Section, featuring new and classic material, was a hot seller in its first few weeks in stores.

These days Hughley does a lot of looking around at the top courses he plays. And that is one of the things he likes best about golf. “I can’t hit balls in Yankee Stadium, and I can’t shoot hoops in the Staples Center, but I can play on the same courses where Tiger plays. And I play about four times a week, when I can. One time it rained for 13 straight days, and I waslike a little kid staring out the window wailing, ‘it’s never going to stop!’”

STEVE HARVEY

Harvey is as unabashed a fan of Earth, Wind & Fire as he is a proponent of lots of fundamental truths. In this day and age of instant pop culture, those fundamental truths give Harvey an advantage over all other comics and even over our own psyches. He knows us better than we know ourselves, because he knows where we came from.

Harvey also loves what he does. Why else would any sane human being—much less a big star of stage and screen—get up at 3 a.m. every day to be host for a drive-time radio show? “Hard work?” Harvey asks rhetorically, “I’ve done it all my life. My father was a coal miner. Now that’s hard work. This is fun.” In his first half-century Harvey has conquered stand-up comedy, television, film, and live concert venues. His radio show on 100.3 FM, “The Beat” in Los Angeles, gets consistantly high ratings but he is already looking ahead. “I always want to be the best there is. Stand-up has been great and radio has been a good career, too. Now I am thinking about becoming a motivational speaker.”

Harvey is one of those rare golfers who loves the game and plays it well but not often. “I’m not that great a ball striker, but that is the game I’ve got. I read an article that said 90% of the people who play golf can’t even break 100, and I only play about four months a year, April through July. So I guess I’m doing alright. Any time I get to play, I play for the moment. If the shot looks good, and feels good, then you can take that home.”

CEDRIC THE ENTERTAINER

It is easy to imagine sitting on a sofa or a golf cart with Cedric, swapping one liners—mostly his, but some yours. He bites his sandwich and you ask if he remembers Eddie Murphy’s routine from Delirious about Ralph and Ed Norton as lovers.

“My comedy is very observational,” says Cedric. “It’s non-business. People do funny stuff. My wife is very funny.” He just gets a feel for it and takes a similar approach to golf. “I lay the club in my hand. I am looking for a particular feel.” He has been playing golf for five or six years, and does not track his handicap closely, but figures it to be about 20.

Cedric admits that friends had to talk him into golf at first, but now he appreciates the patience and focus it takes. As a natural entertainer, the only thing Cedric is not good at is not being good at things. “Now I enjoy every moment. It’s all about not getting stressful.” And stress is not part of Cedric’s routine on stage or off.

For Cedric, the natural bon-vivant, golf is part of the good life well lived, and score is less important than the experience out doors and with friends. “If you shoot six over or whatever, there was probably at least one shot that sticks in your mind. You might remember that one shot for years. That is what it was all about today, letting life come to you.”